


Apologies

by Dazzledfirestar



Category: Avengers (Comic)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-28
Updated: 2011-06-28
Packaged: 2017-10-20 19:20:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/216256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dazzledfirestar/pseuds/Dazzledfirestar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hank puts his foot in his mouth and tries to make it up to Clint. (Based on the conversation in Avengers Academy about why Jan left Hank for Clint and co-written with Icicleman on Tumblr)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Apologies

Hank was never going to stop being… well, Hank about it. Awkward, inappropriate shit was always going to fly out of his mouth at the worst possible times. But then he’d start apologizing. That was the part Clint liked.

 

“I didn’t mean it. I shouldn’t have said anything it just… its true!” Hank huffed a little, his brow knitting together. “I mean, I get it. You know I get it!” Hank’s frown got a little more pronounced as he stared at the man on the other side of the room.

 

“I know you know.” Clint leaned back against the door. “But Christ, Hank! I thought we weren’t going to talk about that.” His eyes narrowed a little. “Ever.”

 

“I know! I just…”

 

“Hank, shut up.” Clint took a couple steps further into the room. “Take it off.”

 

“What?”

 

“The costume. Take it off.” Clint moved closer again. “I don’t want ‘Wasp’—”

 

“You did tha—”

 

Clint grabbed the back of Hank’s head and pressed a frustrated kiss to his lips. He pulled at Hank’s costume until all that was left on him was the goggles that were pushed up so high they were threatening to fall off. Hank had to blink up at him a couple times before what Clint was saying actually sunk in. “Really, dude, just shut up.”

 

Satisfied that the message might have finally sunk in, Clint continued to push and prod at Hank until he finally landed on the couch. They weren’t anywhere remotely private. Anyone could walk in and Clint could see Hank’s thoughts running along those same lines, looking to the mechanical doors and hidden cameras he has set up around the room.

 

 To Clint, it’s a rush.

 

Unless a kid walks in. Then it’s a major turn off.

 

“You got any special gadget to lock these doors from here, Pym.” He straddled the man’s hips, feeling the shift of skin against his uniform. Clint leaned forward to nuzzle Hank’s jaw as he stammered out override codes to firmly lock the doors and stop the video feed. It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out something was up, but at least they’d bother Dr. Pym later rather than screw things up now.

 

Their new found privacy seemed to set something off in Hank. He wasn’t shy this time about grabbing Clint by his hips and pulling him forward to kiss almost too gently and tentative at first. Clint responded by grabbing him by his hair roughly and kissing him back, pushing and rocking his body against his.

 

Hank couldn’t stop the shaky moan that made its way up his throat as Clint’s lips moved lower. “Oh… wow…”

 

Hank felt more than heard the chuckle that left his long time teammate. “You’re so easy.” Clint’s teeth grazed Hank’s collarbone and he moaned again.

 

“P-please…”

 

“I thought…” Clint paused to suck on one of Hank’s embarrassingly hard nipples. “You were supposed to be apologizing to me.” He nipped at the flesh just above Hank’s belly button and watched him try to collect some semblance of control.

 

Hank took several deep breaths, reciting every formula he’d ever learned. His hands moved pulling on Clint’s costume until he found skin.

 

“You rip that and I’m sending you the bill from my tailor.”

 

Hank huffed again.  How could he be cracking jokes _NOW_?

 

 Repetitive experimentation had taught him a thing or two about how to stop the jokes and his hand slid up Clint’s thigh. Hank pressed another softer kiss to his lips as his hand climbed up Clint’s thigh. “I’m sorry.”

 

Clint smirked. “Yeah?” He tweaked Hank’s nipple and got a gasp for it. “Show me.”

 

They were on an uneven playing field. Hank looked vulnerable naked and splayed out on the couch with Clint just planting kisses and nips over his body. He was half-hard and he had not even touched him yet, but Clint would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it too. He just had the advantage of a whole uniform to hide his pleasure.

 

The good thing about bedding a scientist is that they were always determined. That was the look on Hank’s face as his hand ventured from his thigh to cup Clint through his uniform. He took a deep breath and regretfully pulled back. Hank cocked his eyebrow at him, confused, and a little hurt. He was a team player after all.

 

Clint pulled off his purple gloves and threw them aside. He ran his fingers through Hank’s hair again, pushing back the goggles until they were practically off. He grabbed him sharply and pulled his head back, forcing his gaze on him.

 

“Hey now, I want to hear you beg for it.”

 

Hank frowned again, some lingering sense of pride stalling the words he knew he’d have to get out before anything else happened. “Please…”

 

“Please what?”

 

“Damn it, Clint…”

 

“That doesn’t sound like an apology.” Clint tugged on his hair again and Hank groaned.

 

“Please…” Hank swallowed hard and forced the words out. “Please let me make it up to you.” The more he spoke the easier it got, just like it always did. He just had to get over the first hump and he knew it. “Please let me—” he paused again and Clint gave another tug on his hair. Hank felt himself twitch and moaned softly. “God, Clint, please… I want to suck you off… I want…” he groaned again, rubbing himself shamelessly against the couch in a search for friction. “Please let me suck your cock!”

 

“That’s more like it,” Clint laughed. With his free hand, he pulled his pants down to his thighs. His firm grip on Hank’s hair loosened, allowing the other man to surge forward and take him.

 

Hank wasn’t an expert cock sucker, but he made up for it in enthusiasm. He was all tongue at first—tracing the shape with the flat of his tongue. Clint could feel Hank’s lips move against him. _I’m sorry_ and _please_ over again, requiring permission to keep going.

 

“You slut! You’re enjoying this a little too much, aren’t you?” Clint groaned, pulling back to brush the head of his cock against Hank’s lips. He guided himself into that tight little mouth and Hank took it, digging his fingernails into Clint’s thigh and moaning around him. “Come on, Pym. Take it. Show me how sorry you are.”

 

Hank was past trying to form words. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep this up without embarrassing himself all over the couch.

 

He choked before he could remember to relax his throat. Clint groaned and Hank echoed the sound… or tried to as Clint’s cock slid deep down his throat and stayed there long enough to make he breathless. The fingers in Hank’s hair scraped along his scalp and he couldn’t stop himself from practically rutting against the cushions.

 

“Oh, fuck yeah.” Clint’s head fell back against the arm of the couch. “You love this, don’t you?” Hank moaned in response; his cheeks hollowing around Clint’s cock and the pace his hips moved against the couch increasing. Clint must have noticed. He tugged on Hank’s hair, bringing his eyes up to meet Clint’s. “You don’t come until I say so.”

 

The couch was getting good and defiled with all their moving and rutting, but he wasn’t going to let Hank come yet unless it was by his command.

 

 

“You like it when I fuck your face, huh?” He shuddered. He was close. “Bet you want me to fuck you too, Pym. Hard and rough until you’re screaming. That right?”

 

He let Hank pull himself back with a gasp. “Yes.”

 

“Can’t hear you.”

 

And Hank looked right at him, eyes filled with lust and lips pink and wet. Clint’s breath caught in his throat as Hank answered him loudly, shamelessly—”Fuck me, Clint. I want you to fuck me.”

 

He let go of Hank’s hair and ran his fingers down his cheek and over his lips. Clint cupped his chin. “Come.”

 

Hank gasped and leaned heavily into Clint’s hand as he jerked his hips against the couch cushions and came hard with a loud moan. “Clint,” he yelled like it was the only name he knew and Clint thought he quite liked it that way.

 

With his other hand, he wrapped his fingers around his cock and stroked himself roughly while keeping Hank in place. It didn’t take long for him to come, streaking Hank’s lips and cheek. The man licked his lips clean and looked at him expectantly.

 

God, that was beautiful.

 

“I forgive you.”

 


End file.
